


Band-Aids and Bullet Holes

by MillionMileMountain



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Descriptions of Blood, Other, but this just focuses on Jack and Ryan, implied OT6 - Freeform, lots of concern, lots of fluff, they're all together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 11:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MillionMileMountain/pseuds/MillionMileMountain
Summary: Jack has noticed something going on with Ryan recently; something that has the rest of the crew a bit on edge. Jack decides that it's time to sit down and have a talk with him about it.





	Band-Aids and Bullet Holes

Ryan seemed to be moving a bit more slowly than normal, wincing when he raised his arms or laughed too deeply, and Jack noticed.

She sipped at her drink and waited until the rest of the crew had retired, each fully capable of owning a separate house outside the penthouse but electing to take up the spare bedrooms, especially right before big jobs. This job had been particularly grueling, keeping Michael, Jeremy, Gavin, and Michael in the field for nearly half a week and involving more guns than anticipated, but everyone had come out relatively unscathed and more than a little exhausted. With fatigue practically hanging in the air, it didn’t take long for each member of the crew to retreat back to their bedrooms, Michael and Gavin slinking away together, Jeremy close behind. Ryan had shot the three men a glance, almost starting to follow them down the hall, but dropped his hand, slumping into his own room instead. Jack had plucked the whiskey out of Geoff’s hand then, guiding him to bed and promising that she’d join him in a moment.

It didn’t take long before Geoff was snoring with the best of them, and Jack found her way down the dimly-lit hall, knocking quietly on Ryan’s door before she could stop herself. She knew what tonight would hold, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the talk that was about to come. It was a long time coming, but both her and Geoff had been putting it off for a while, not quite sure when the breach the subject. But when she’d seen the way Ryan had been moving, the way that Jeremy, Gavin, and Michael had eyed him with concern bordering on fear, she knew that this was the time, whether she liked it or not.

She was shaken from her thought as Ryan creaked the door open, eyeing her with wariness and shock. He still wore his bullet proof vest and skull-like face paint, though his hair was no longer pulled back, his muted yellow locks framing his face in a way that almost made him seem angelic. His soft blue eyes betrayed his fatigue and surprise, and Jack couldn’t help but sigh as she gently pushed past him, setting the medical kit on the bed.

“What’s going on?” Ryan’s words held the hint of a threat, but Jack knew that her boy would never hurt her. Honestly, in his state, she doubted he could if he tried.

She patted the bed without looking at him, preoccupied with unpacking gauze and a myriad of other supplies from the kit. “Sit. Let me take a look.”

Jack heard Ryan shifting next to the door, and could almost sense the stubbornness coming off of him. “I’m fine—”

She cut him off with a wave, turning her attention from the med kit to the mercenary near the door who was in the process of pouting like a child. “You’ve been stiff ever since we got back to the penthouse, much more so than how you normally are after a job. And no matter how skilled you might be, there’s no way you’ve lasted the past half a week without getting at least a little banged up. Now,” she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, not really needing to pull very hard for him to follow, “let me have a look.”

Jack sat Ryan down on the edge of the mattress, peeling off his jacket and setting it aside. “You know I don’t need help with this,” he pouted, pliant under Jack’s careful hands. “I can patch myself up just fine.”

Jack got to work unstrapping Ryan from his Kevlar vest, taking note of his pained hiss as she jostled the Velcro. She set the vest next to the jack and lifted up Ryan’s t-shirt, wincing as she caught sight of what lied beneath. A few strips of gauze wrapped around his middle, bruises blossoming yellow and purple along his ribcage beside bruises that were still fading. He fingers danced along the skin, taking note of what might be a cracked rib (if Ryan’s flinch and pained hiss were anything to go by) and—was that a bullet hole covered by a Hello Kitty Band-Aid? Probably pilfered from Gavin sometime during the mission.

“I can see that,” Jack mumbled, absent-mindedly digging around in the med kit until she found what she was searching for. She popped open the pill bottle, pouring a couple pills into her hand and offering them to Ryan. “You’re probably gonna want to take these.” It was more of demand than an offer, and Ryan must have sensed it, because he wordlessly took the painkillers and swallowed them dry.

Jack worked in silence for a little while, deft fingers undoing the patch-job that had been holding Ryan together for the past several days. With the way that the bandages had been secured, she was genuinely surprised that nothing had come loose sooner. There were a few bruises aright along his ribs, some still forming and others nearly faded away. She grabbed the disinfecting wipes, tearing open a pack with her teeth and setting to cleaning up the biggest gash, what looked like a bullet graze just above his left hip bone.  
This wound was almost certain to leave a scar, what with how deep the wound was and how long it had been left untreated. But then again, it would blend in with the rest of him. Jack took stock of the rest of the scars that littered Ryan’s body; there was the mark on his upper bicep left over from when a particularly enthusiastic mugger had tried to pull a knife a year ago. And the one from when he had jumped in front of a gun that had been pointed at Geoff shortly after he’d joined the crew. And the series of scars from pranks gone wrong, little moments of frivolity that had turned south quickly with a few more explosions than strictly necessary. And there were so many more, reminders of deals gone wrong and more than a few close calls, the scars standing pale against Ryan’s tanned skin.

“Gavin told me what happened.”

Those five words had Ryan tensing immediately, and he winced as he jostled his injuries. “Did he?” His words made a good show of trying to be nonchalant, but Jack could see past that act in a second.

“He did. Told me all about how you lead the charge into the warehouse. About how you took out nearly everyone in the place single handedly. About how you did all that without backup.” She tugged a little on the bandages to emphasize her point. Ryan didn’t so much as flinch, but he did lower his head, avoiding Jack’s piercing gaze.

She paused for a moment, remembering the conversation with Gavin, how frightened he’d looked. About how he’d begged Jack or Geoff to talk with Ryan about the mission, about his carelessness, about his martyr complex. “He sounded really scared, Ryan. So did Michael and Jeremy.” The other two boys had held back as Gavin had relayed the tale, but their concerned glances had told Jack more than enough.

The troubling part is that this wasn’t a particularly new story. Ryan was strong, yes, but his impulsiveness and instinct to leap head-first into danger kept most of the team on-edge, never sure if this time would be the when the Vagabond would get Ryan killed.

“There were more gunmen than we’d been expecting. And I thought I could take care of it before the other got there.” He shrugged lightly, and something sparked within Jack. She couldn’t tell if it was rage, or fear, or pride, or concern, or something else entirely. She figured it was probably a mixture.

“You know you have to be more careful, right? I can’t keep patching you up like this. And if you keep going, there might not be anything left to patch up.”

“You know I never asked you to look after me.”

“You didn’t have to, you know that.” Jack’s voice was soft and her breath ghosted along Ryan’s stomach as she tightened the last bandage, slipping his shirt back towards his hips as she rose. She kept her hands there, pinning Ryan to his spot on the mattress. He could easily slip out of her grip, and they both knew it, but Ryan was obediently still, keeping his eyes downcast.

Jack rested her forehead against Ryan’s, taking in his scent for a moment. Irish Spring and gunpowder. “You know we’re here for you. You know you don’t have to take care of these things alone. We’re a team for a reason, Rye. You can lean on us.” Jack pulled away, taking Ryan’s chin in one hands and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You’ll feel fine after a few days, but make sure to take it easy and let me know if your ribs give you any more trouble.” Her voice was a little tighter than normal, but she didn't linger on it.

Jack pulled away, not missing the way that Ryan’s hands almost chased after her, and busied herself with putting away the med kit and disposing of the bandages. This was hardly the first time that Ryan had put himself in danger, thrown himself head-first into the fight just to spare the rest of them the trouble. And yes, he was strong, yes he was fast, but he wasn’t invincible. Jack herself had had to patch him up enough times to make her stomach turn, and it was often only when he couldn’t hide the injuries. She was lucky that it wasn’t worse than it was this time.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t that bad,” Ryan joked, his voice small and flimsy.

“But it could have been,” Jack snapped, her words much sharper than intended. She turned to dump the dirty bandages in the trash can by Ryan’s desk, trying to keep the lump from rising in her throat. Maybe it was the fatigue—it was after 2 a.m. after all—but her vision began to waver, her mind racing still. There had been too many close calls with Ryan. Too many almosts. Too many broken bones and deep wounds and blood and what if the injuries had been worse and what if she hadn’t caught onto Ryan’s injuries in time and—

Jack didn’t notice the tears until they were rolling down her cheeks, falling neatly into the waste basket. She rushed to wipe them away, tried to keep the sobs in her chest, but it was a losing battle, and her shoulder began to shake and shiver as the tears cascaded down her face.

Ryan put a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her into his chest. She clutched at his shirt, the edges still soaked with his blood, and hid her face in his shoulder as she cried, trying to cling to the fact that he was still alive, he was still in one piece.

“It’s okay,” Ryan muttered into her hair, stroking her back soothingly as he led them both back to the mattress. They sat with a soft thump, Jack’s mind racing far too quickly for her to keep up. Scenarios ran through her thought; Ryan getting shot, Ryan driving far too fast and flipping his car, Ryan bleeding out in her arms while she was helpless to do anything.

It wasn’t like the others didn’t get into their share of sticky situations; heaven knows that she’d had to patch up Jeremy and Michael more times than she could count. But they didn’t fling themselves into danger for no reason. They weren’t the ones who refused to wait for backup. They weren’t the ones who hid their injuries or kept Jack up at night with worry.

It took a long while for Jack’s breathing to slow, but when it did, her limbs felt like they were made of concrete, and her head was light and spinning. Ryan’s arms circled her, rubbing soothing patterns into her back and mumbling quiet words into her hair. She curled further into his, relishing the warmth and the thrum of his heartbeat against her ear.  
“I’m sorry.” The apology was almost a whisper, but Ryan’s arms tightened incrementally as he mumbled the words over and over.

“It’s okay,” Jack replied, twisting her face up so she could see Ryan. His eyes shined with concern and unshed tears, and Jack reached up to cup his face. “You just can’t keep doing this. We all care about you too much to lose you.”

Ryan’s mouth opened and closed, the words seeming to stick in his throat, and he settled for simply nodding, tucking Jack’s head under his chest.

Jack knew they’d have to have a more serious talk tomorrow. She was sure that Michael, Jeremy, and Gavin had more than a few words to say on the subject, and Geoff would definitely want to chime in. But for now, she settled against Ryan’s chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, and drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at publishing in this fandom, so forgive me if the characters are a bit off. This idea just popped into my head and I decided to run with it. Please feel free to drop a kudos or a comment if you'd like!


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